A Social Call

I was just the clerk; I counted things in, and counted ‘em out again. True, it meant being privy to a few confidential details, but I'd always figured it a fairly risk free position. No fighting, no heavy lifting… thought I had it pretty good. Then that bloke showed up. Refract, was it? I don't think he told me his name, but that's him alright.

He broke into my house when I was sleeping. At the time, I assumed he'd picked the lock, snuck past the dogs and used some special poison or something to keep the wife out cold. Turned out afterwards, he'd just bloody kicked the door down! The dogs hadn't put up much of a fight, poor things, and he'd apparently just clocked Trudy over the head. No style whatsoever, I must be a bloody heavy sleeper.

Anyway, first I knew was waking up with the smell of leather as his glove clasped over my mouth.

“Just a social call, Mr. Stoatly. I wont take up too much of your time.” He said. Then, he pulled me out of bed and stood me up against the wall, all in one movement. I know I’m not a big guy, but he must have been pretty darn strong.  His armor clinked in the dark.  It sounded heavy.

“Your city has a reputation for hospitality, Mr. Stoatly. I hope you aren't going to let it down. I am sorry to disturb you at such an hour, but I hope you aren't going to let that faze you. It'd be so embarrassing if you did anything silly”.

As the sleep worked its way from my eyes, I saw his face. Kind of a long face, medium length facial hair; didn't look like he'd had a bath or a shave for a while, and that's me talking. It's his eyes that really stick in the mind though; really scary. As he looked into my eyes, it was as if he… knew me. Knew everything about me, everything I'd done. Only way I can describe it is, it was as if it was my own father standing there.

I think I must've been gawking a bit, cos I felt his fist in my side like a hammer. His face hadn't moved, it was totally unexpected, so it knocked the wind out of me.

“Nothing to say, Mr. Stoatly? As a visitor to this city, I was hoping you could provide me with some directions, perhaps a little information. For example, I'm very interested to find out more about an organisation known as… the Low Road gang.”

“I don't know nothing.” I wheezed, still catching my breath.

“Don't be so hard on yourself, Mr. Stoatly. From what I hear, you're quite the man with numbers… and words.”

It was his eyes; he was a hard man to lie to. It was like… he'd just know. For another few moments, I didn't speak, considering how to respond. I think he lost his patience there; he punched me again, and a few of my ribs went; I felt them crack against each other. Then he threw me about a bit, kicked me in the stomach, and rammed my head into the door. I lay there for a bit, throwing up. Too dark to tell, but I think a lot of it was blood.

He picked me up, one handed, and turned me to face him. He had that disgusted look on his face, and frankly I would have too; I was like a worm on a hook.

Suddenly, he smiled at me. It wasn't some evil grin; it was a sincere, warm and friendly smile; which was somehow worse.

“I believe at least one of us will live to regret this evening, Mr. Stoatly. I hope I don't have to kill you and prove myself wrong.”

“What do you want?” I asked, still coughing up blood.

“Oh, I'm terribly sorry Mr. Stoatly. Was it merely a matter of specificity? The passwords, please. All of them. And the location of the HQ and main warehouse, if it isn't too much trouble.”

Well, I told him, didn't I? I knew from the way he looked at me he'd let me go if I told him what he wanted to know. And judging by the kicking he'd given me, I'd rather take my chances with the gang than have Mr. Refract coming after me if he found out I'd lied. True to his word, he left my heart beating. Gave me another kicking before he left, mind, and cut out my tongue, but I was almost grateful for that. I didn't need to worry about the gang catching up to me either; nobody heard anything from them after that night really.  And a cut-out tongue's no bother to fix if you know the right people.

Taken from an interview with one Gerhardt Stoatly, a man who went on to great things after the Low Road gang was dissolved.  He is currently the mayor of a large town, and talks candidly about his shady past.  Apparently people like a politician who isn't afraid to let the skeletons out of the closet.